


An Arisen Inquisitor

by Tagedieb



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon's Dogma
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tagedieb/pseuds/Tagedieb
Summary: The Inquisition unexpectedly finds itself with an Arisen as their leader. But it's not all gravity defying stunts and setting themselves on fire - the world is at stake and the Arisen is determined to save it, despite her apparent age and her companion's opinion's on her wardrobe.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. The Arisen 'arose' late, huh?

Cassandra stared at the slim slip of a girl they’d found at the scene of the crime. If it weren’t for the hand that glowed as green as the hole in the sky she’d never consider her to be guilty. She had worn the skimpiest outfit Cassandra had ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on, but – and this was important – she was young. An elf of about eleven summers. She had to be a mage! How else would she have killed the divine and caused this disaster? Yet they had found only a pair of intricate spear blades and an elegant bow on her person.

As the elf looked up to them with a curious expression, Cassandra locked eyes with her. Then, unexpectedly, the girl smiled at her.  
“Hello!” she greeted them, inappropriately cheerfully for the situation. She added a concerned “Are you alright?” when their stunned silence dragged on for too long.

“Am I alright?” she spat, confused and angry all at once. “The conclave is destroyed! Everyone who attended is dead! Except for you...” The answer was as unexpected as everything else about this situation.

“What conclave?” Had this been anyone else, the pretence would have caused Cassandra’s rage to sprout wings and spew flames, but as she was currently staring at a little girl, it didn’t seem as unlikely.

Leliana answered instead of her. “Divine Justinia called a conclave to end the war between mages and templars.”

“Why are mages and templars at war?” The girl asked, but before anyone could address that statement a pained gasp escaped her as her marked hand flashed green.

“What is that?” She asked them, seemingly confused.

This had to be a horrible accident. Someone used this girl for this purpose, perhaps a bomb she had been unaware she carried. Apart from her unsettling determination to smile through the pain she seemed a normal enough child. Cassandra’s stomach twisted into knots as she imagined the situation their prisoner must have been in to learn such habits. It was an unfortunate fact of life for elves...

Perhaps it was a clever deception, but...

Shaking her head she told Leliana to head to the forward camp. Hopefully that apostate was right about the mark.

“It is perhaps best if you see it for yourself”, she finally told the elf.

Then, dismissing the guards, she led her outside where the breach was clearly visible in the sky. The girl stared at it for a moment, before the green flashing of her hand drew her back to the current situation.

“I need to go there”, she told Cassandra. The seeker was immediately suspicious. Had the girl caused this mess after all?

“Why?” she asked.

“I’m the Arisen, it’s my duty to fix this.” The girl said seriously. She had such a determined expression on her face that Cassandra couldn’t help but believe her.

“Then follow me.”

With that they were off.

* * *

After everything that had happened Solas wondered if it shouldn’t have been him to be sealed away for eternity. Awakening to find the world worse off than before was already a shock in and of itself. Being unable to unlock his orb to immediately fix this particular mistake had been humiliating. And it was not only the long sleep that had weakened him, no. The veil itself was like a thick blanket smothering his power from a brightly burning flame to a flickering candle.

He created another burst of ice to deal with one more of the endless amount of demons pouring out of the rift. They must’ve become corrupted from passing through, he couldn’t believe there would be this many demons in one place – his wanderings in his dreams had been peaceful.

As he tiredly moved to deal with yet another corrupted spirit his mind drifted to the latest victim of his mistakes. Corypheus was supposed to unlock the orb for him, but something had gone wrong. He hadn’t found his focus and only barely managed to escape suspicion himself afterwards. But even worse – the person all this suspicion now rested on was only a child – even by the terms of this new world.

He had done his best to keep her alive, even though he was uncertain whether he’d succeeded. She might have been breathing, but he had been unable to find a pulse. If she didn’t wake up – he would have to take the mark himself, something which likely would kill such a young person. Originally he’d barely dared to contemplate it, but the situation was worsening.

A sharp pain in his arm made him refocus on the battle winding down around him. He hastily retreated as the hunger lunged for him again. Then he heard a high voice call out: “GO!” He knocked the demon away from himself into a nearby soldier’s waiting sword and half-turned to look warily around. What was that supposed to mean? A dark blur whirled past him, spinning several times in the air before crashing down onto another unsuspecting demon. That was when he could make out the round face of the prisoner.

In her hands she held a pair of gleaming blades that seemed to have been made for spears, although she used them as daggers. Before anything else could be said the dwarven crossbowman put a bolt through the last demon’s head and Solas took the opportunity. He grabbed the child’s hand and – feeling a little bit like a father, showing his da’len the ropes – guided his magic in her hand to seal the rift. He was sure she’d be able to do it on her own from now on.

“Thank you!” The girl commented cheerily with the same voice that had shouted earlier.

“I did nothing” he denied immediately. “That was all you. Good job” he added on. Something about talking to someone so young made him feel like a teacher. He mentally shook himself, but still proceeded to explain his ‘theory’.

“The magic that opened the breach also seems to have put that mark on your hand. I thought the mark might be able to close the breach or the rifts that have opened since then. And it seems I was correct.” When speaking to children, so Mythal had often reminded him, one should avoid pronouns and use small and uncomplicated words. He hoped it was adequate.

“Meaning it could also close the breach itself?” Cassandra stepped forward as she asked this, drawing level with the bearer of his mark.

“Possibly.” He answered. This was something he wasn’t too sure about himself. The breach was large and had been opened with significantly more power than the mark on the prisoner’s hand held. He couldn’t resist adding on a small stealth pun as he turned to face the child.

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation in your hand.”

At that point the dwarf joined their conversation. “Good to know. Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” Solas felt himself mirroring Cassandra’s disapproving look at the swearword.

“Varric Tethras: Rogue, Story-Teller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.” The man introduced himself.

“Hello Varric” The girl began pleasantly. Then she gestured to herself. “I am Olis of Cassardis: The Arisen, Strider and occasionally, pest-remover. I’m happy to meet you.”

“Oh, you might want to reconsider that stance in time.” He commented.

“Aw, I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, chuckles.”

While Cassandra and Varric descended into a small argument, Solas watched their unwitting saviour. She had abandoned the conversation and crouched near one of the collapsed walls, poking at the snow on the ground.

“'Tis like soft ice” she murmured to herself, but his sharp ears picked it up regardless.

He made his way over to her and bent down to be on her level. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Then he paused. He didn’t have the heart to inform her she’d nearly died. Or would probably do so soon, regardless of what happened. But there was a question of his own he might ask her.

“Your pulse is very faint. I’ve been wondering if this has always been the case.” Truthfully, she had no heartbeat at all. If she hadn’t had such a strong and varied presence he’d almost be willing to believe her a construct or a possessed corpse. As it was he’d kept his observations quiet.

“Oh, I used to have a pulse, but then a dragon stole my heart. So you shouldn’t have felt anything at all.” She explained blithely.

“A dragon... stole your heart?” He asked, wondering if this had been some story an elder had made up to placate her or if it came from her own imagination. “How old are you?”

“I’m... hmm. I think... But... Uh... I actually don’t know. I might be fifteen. But yes, Grigori. He’s quite chatty for someone who hates monologues, but then that’s his role, so he can’t help it.”

So definitely a story, then. She ‘might’ be fifteen? Was she, though? Well, that was old enough to count as an adult in this age. And it wasn’t too surprising that she wouldn’t know.

He watched her roll the snow into a small ball, weapons now safely tugged into her belt. He frowned slightly. The clothes she was wearing were inappropriate, even if it hadn’t been snowing. They left her legs and most of her torso bare – closer to what a dancer might wear in a shifty brothel.

She interrupted his musings: “So what’s the next step when I can’t seal the breach?”

“What makes you think you won’t be able to?” He questioned her. She didn’t seem to be a mage at first glance, but her presence was so strange and intense that he couldn’t be sure. Could she sense the power of the breach in the veil?

“It seems to be too big a problem to be solved so easily.” She answered instead.

He blinked at her. Was she under the impression they were living in a story? Although... maybe that was what helped her overcome her predicament.

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works. But I fear you might be right. The power is unlike any I have seen before.”

Cassandra, apparently listening in to their conversation for some time stepped in. “In that case we should head to the forward camp quickly.”

And so they hurried onward.

* * *

While neither her titles nor the name Cassardis meant anything to him, he’d smiled at hearing her mirror his introduction style. He hadn’t been quite sure what to think, when he’d heard of the person that supposedly caused this whole mess, but he felt a little better after witnessing her in person. Then she’d ignored his argument with Cassandra to look at the snow as if she’d never seen any before and his earlier uncertainty returned.

As they made their way to the forward camp she admitted that she didn’t remember what had happened before she fell out of the rift. Strangely enough, Olis seemed not the least bothered by this.

Watching what everyone considered a child cut through the demons with an efficiency not seen in some battle-hardened veterans, Varric once more doubted that assessment. While the girl seemed to be genuinely jovial, her skill with weapons exceeded the street rats he’d met by leaps and bounds. She also didn’t attack with the same sneakiness a person who’d learned on the streets did.

She could be Dalish, but in truth, she lacked the caution. In fact she darted through their enemies with such abandon, that it suggested she didn’t care about getting hurt. Which in turn was at odds with her sunny outlook. Very curious. But ultimately, he thought she was older than they suspected.

Her stamina alone was far beyond any child. In fact, as she yet again jumped over her own height in the air and spun in tandem with her blades, like a deadly whirlwind of blades, she might have more than some grown men.

He’d have appreciated the acrobatics more within a story. They seemed impractical in a battle of life and death. She made it work, though.

As she sealed another rift, this time without Solas’ assistance, he couldn’t help but comment: “Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful.”

She turned and smiled at him. “That’s probably why I have it.”

He felt his eyebrows lift at that. He’d noted earlier that she seemed to think everything that had happened followed some imaginary rules and that she was the hero in her own personal story.

“Let’s hope so.” He said dubiously, as they passed through the gates to the sound of an argument.


	2. 'Tis weak to fire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arisen turns out to have unexpected skills. Her companions are unamused.

Leliana held back a sigh as the high chancellor went into another spiel about sending their newly awakened prisoner to Val Royeaux for questioning and the impossibility of stopping this catastrophe. As someone who had travelled with the Hero of Ferelden during the Blight, she was willing to try everything.

She didn’t believe their prisoner was as young as she looked, having been part of the confrontation with Morrigan’s mother. Still, her looks had prevented the chantry from taking more drastic measures. While she highly doubted the girl was as innocent as she looked, her confusion after waking up had seemed genuine.

Either way, if the apostate was to be believed, she was their only hope. Leliana was certain they would find another way if they had to. She did remember well when the last apostate had declared blood magic the only option – and yet the circle had managed to exorcise the demon just as well. Solas was highly untrustworthy. His knowledge of the magic involved was suspicious. And why would an apostate risk coming out here in the first place? Could he be working with whoever had blown up the conclave? Or was he responsible himself? Or maybe he was just a pawn in someone else’s game. Either way, she would find out.

She looked up as she saw Cassandra enter through the gate, the sounds of fighting having stopped for the moment. Their prisoner was with her, as were Varric Tethras and Solas.

The girl whose name she had been unable to find out, despite her far-reaching inquiries, looked none the worse for having travelled and fought through the rift-infested approach. She suppressed a frown as she noticed Cassandra had handed her the weapons they’d found alongside her. She carried the spear blades as daggers and had the bow clipped to her back. The other strange items she’d had in her backpack were back in Haven and she hoped she could question her thoroughly later.

For now, she managed a relieved smile that was only half-faked as she greeted them: “You made it.”

She gestured to the prisoner and went to introduce her: “Chancellor Roderick, this is –“

She frowned as he interrupted her and demanded they take the girl to Val Royeaux to interrogate her. They needed to seal the breach now!

As Cassandra argued with the chancellor she hastily stepped into the conflict.

“We serve the most holy, chancellor, as you well know.” At the last part she looked towards Cassandra, trying to convey her meaning. They had a chance to take command with the Inquisition. And if the prisoner was well and alive, they had to take the opportunity now to stop not only the breach, but the war as well. She buried her impatience as the chancellor argued once again that they had to wait for the election of a new divine to make a decision. Only because she could see he was still deeply in mourning. But so were they...

Cassandra, however, was less tactful as she continued their argument.

Leliana took the opportunity to study their prisoner. She was talking to one of the guards who seemed bewildered by her attention. She observed with interest how the soldier smiled briefly at whatever she was saying. She’d had to ask the girl’s name, which rankled the left hand of the divine.

As the argument turned to how to best approach the breach she voiced her own opinion on the matter. The mountain path would help them avoid most of the fighting; it was the better choice for a group with such unknown quantities as the prisoner and the apostate.

Just as Cassandra forcibly reminded her of their lost troops, the breach flared again – as did the prisoner’s hand.

There was a stubborn expression on Cassandra’s face as she turned towards the girl.

“What do you think we should do?”

The prisoner blinked at them for a moment. Then she adopted a thoughtful look.

“Oh, is this a _choice_?” – strange emphasis, Leliana noted – “Let me think. If they charge as a distraction, could they be careful about it? I want to save the people that got lost in the mountains, but I don’t want anyone to unnecessarily die trying to distract the demons.”

Save them? Perhaps they could. It was an answer Leliana hadn’t expected and she couldn’t wait to stop being surprised by the girl.

“Then you’ll take the mountain path?” She didn’t want to get into the naive hope that no one would die during the distraction.

“Yes.” The girl said, looking her straight in the eyes.

What she saw there was not unlike the things she’d seen in another pair of eyes in another hopeless situation.

* * *

Solas trotted after the group as they started climbing over the mountains. Once again he was reminded of his utter failure. They would have been able to reach the temple much faster and much more securely if they could all just shapeshift. Between keeping the girl alive and fighting demons all day he felt exhausted beyond belief. He panted slightly and used his staff to heave himself up another hill. If only he hadn’t given his orb to Corypheus.

None of this should have happened.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings as he reached the top of this part of the mountains... Ahead of them was an array of ladders and platforms. As Cassandra informed them they’d reach the tunnel soon he questioned her on the particulars of that.

It certainly seemed as though they were about to make their way through an abandoned mine. The wooden construct creaked in the cold wind and he suppressed a shiver. It certainly looked abandoned and didn’t inspire confidence in its stability.

He wearily stepped up to the ladder as she confirmed his suspicions. Olis had already reached the top. Strangely enough, she seemed to be in her element, sprinting up the rickety wooden stairs without a care in the world. At least until she reached the entrance of the mine. As he tiredly stepped up next to the overeager girl he noted a strange expression on her face. She seemed almost... embarrassed? Luckily he didn’t have to wonder long. As the rest of their companions caught up to them she gave an explanation.

“Is it strange that I only now notice I’m missing my backpack? I could have used the lantern now. Is it too late to go back? ‘Tis probably too dark to see inside.”

He suppressed an annoyed growl. Of course _that_ would be considered a problem, nowadays.

“It won’t be an issue.” He told her and cast a mage light.

“Wow, that seems like a really useful spell!” She declared, excitedly. Apparently her good mood was back again. He blinked to get rid of the mood whiplash.

“That reminds me, you’re a mage, right? What spells do you know?” She continued.

The question surprised him. Was she a mage or just unexpectedly interested in magic?

“Yes. My knowledge stems from my wanderings in the fade. I’ll be happy to share my findings with you, but I think there’s a more pressing matter at hand.”

“Thank you! I can’t wait to compare spells with you! For now 'tis just important if you cover the three basics: Healing, curing, and damage?”

“I do.” He answered. And as though that had been some sort of signal she sprinted into the dark.

He hastily followed after her, especially once his light illuminated a shade the moment they went in.

The fight was as short and chaotic as all his battles at Olis’ side had been and he took a moment to catch his breath afterwards. Where did all this boundless energy come from? Was it a side-effect of being born into the world after the veil? He examined his other companions, but they seemed just as winded as he was.

“Did you hear that?” Cassandra said suddenly. He strained his ears to hear over the laboured breathing of the group. It echoed eerily through the spacious room.

Then he heard the noise as well. Some kind of grunting, as though a giant pig were feasting nearby.

“Can’t be anything good.” Varric commented. Solas mentally agreed. More importantly, it was wholly unfamiliar to him. He liked to think he’d fought all manner of disgusting creatures. ‘Mother of Monsters’ was a title Ghilan’nain had definitely earned.

“Let’s be careful.” Cassandra suggested. Solas cast a quick glance towards Olis. She was peering into the darkness with a put upon expression that seemed out of place on such a young face.

Then she tore down the hall, vanishing behind a corner and Solas mentally cried at having to run after her again. They just said they needed to be careful! It was probably a good thing they had decided against a direct approach, because their glorious leader would have got them all killed.

Suddenly the grunting turned into outright growls. They echoed deep and menacing through the empty halls.

“Shit!” Varric cursed behind him. As the one with the shortest legs, he lagged behind the party somewhat.

Then they finally rounded the corner after Olis and laid eyes upon their enemy for the first time. It was – something Solas had never seen before. Given his age and experience, that was concerning. Before them was a monster in the shape of an ape of at least 9 feet. There were small horns dotting its back and as it swung its arms around and faced them he could see blood all around its mouth.

He could also see Olis, jumping onto its back and stabbing it over and over with her daggers. The creature frantically tried to shake her off, before it suddenly paused. Solas could predict from the way it bent its legs what was about to happen. It was preparing to crush her under its back. He hastily cast a frost spell to freeze its legs into place.

Cassandra rushed towards the beast, shield carefully held in front of her and he could hear Varric’s crossbow somewhere behind him. Olis vaulted over the monster and dragged her blades over its face on her way to the ground. He cast a barrier over the girl and tried to take cover next to a wall.

Ahead of him the beast broke the ice surrounding its feet and he prepared to cast a barrier for Cassandra as well, but then, for no apparent reason, the beast smacked its hands together and started cackling madly. He finished his spell and exchanged a confused glance with Varric.

On the frontline Cassandra evaded its fists as she tried to get close enough to get a hit in. Its fighting style reminded him of a drunk tavern brawler, but as the seeker was just a little bit too slow to escape another uppercut and was thrown back against the wall with a harsh crack he revised his opinion. That it could do so much damage even through his barrier was worrying. He hurried over to the injured woman.

Dimly he was aware of the monster roaring in the background, Varric shouting “Seeker!” and Olis’ shout of “GO!” Which was still as meaningless to him as it had been the first time.

* * *

Cassandra bit back a pained groan as she hit the wall and struggled to get up again. She could see Olis still fighting the monster, climbing on its back again and stabbing at its face. She had to help! A wave of magic washed over her and the pain lessened considerably. She shot Solas a grateful look and took the hand he was holding out to her. Another loud howl sounded behind them as he helped her up and she ran towards the beast. But as she came closer she could only watch it fall to the ground, defeated.

“I hope that wasn’t a demon, because I don’t want to fight one of those things again.” Varric grumbled.

“Not a demon”, Solas said, but she could tell that he was stumped as well.

As if things hadn’t been strange enough already the monster started to fall apart, its flesh decaying away so quickly that she was reminded of the dragons her family was known for fighting.

She turned towards Olis, unsure of what to say. The girl stood next to the corpse and she could see various bits of the creature’s remains in her arms. Far from fazed, she seemed more concerned with some place to put her spoils.

With a great sigh, Cassandra took the opportunity to atone for not giving the girl her backpack.

“I can carry that for you.”

Olis smiled at her and placed the bits of bone in her pack.

“Do you know where my backpack is?”

Not an easy question to answer. “It should be back in Haven.”

Cassandra felt slightly guilty as she said it. Leliana had been going through the odd collection the girl stored in her pack and she wasn’t sure how much of it she was willing to give back.

“’Tis a relief. I just hope no one dies until then.”

“I hope so, too.” Cassandra answered. Then a thought occurred to her: “Have you fought one of those things before?” She had handled herself very well in that battle, not once freezing up. In fact, she had been incredibly confident.

“Ogres? Yes. I found them annoying the first time and it hasn’t really changed. At least it wasn’t an elder ogre.” Olis explained.

“That was an ogre? I’ve fought ogres before and it looked nothing like them. Hate to say it, but it was even easier to defeat, too.” Varric chimed in.

Cassandra frowned. Varric would have fought one before, with the Champion of Kirkwall...

Olis didn’t seem bothered: “Then maybe you use the name for something different. It happens all the time, but does it really matter?’Tis dead now and we got other stuff to do. Cassandra? How do you feel?”

She catalogued her injuries. Solas’ immediate attention had prevented any lasting damage and she already felt better. He truly was a good healer and a help. Maybe she had misjudged him.

“I’m good to go. Let’s keep going!” She declared before continuing towards the exit.

There they found the bodies.

Bloody remains dotted the floor. Crushed skulls and pieces of skin and bone stuck to the walls. Cassandra swallowed hotly. To think she hadn’t wanted to take this path...

She knelt down next to a torn apart corpse and spoke a quiet prayer for their soul. What a horrible way to die. “That can’t be all of them.” She told her companions as she counted the skulls.

“Go!” Olis said, and sprinted off ahead of them again. Cassandra took one last look at the dead soldiers before she followed behind the rest of the group. It awarded her a chance look at the disgruntled expression on Solas’ face. He must be exhausted from the previous fighting, but even so, they still had a way to go.

The relief she felt as they found another group of scouts further ahead, struggling with both a rift and several demons was nearly palpable. Not everyone had met such a gruesome end. A wave of guilt washed over her as the scout thanked her for her help. She directed them to who they truly should be thanking instead.

* * *

Varric sighed mentally as he trotted after their unusual leader again. He really did hope they didn’t encounter another one of those monsters. While it truly hadn’t been as hard to defeat as the ogre in the deep roads, he had a bad feeling that was more to do with Olis’ skill and less with any weakness on the beast’s part. He’d watched her attack the thing relentlessly, aiming mostly for its face, so he’d assumed it to be its weak spot.

Either way, it had kept most of its attention on her, who was too quick to let herself be hit. She also had anticipated its movements, dodging any swings and even avoiding being crushed under its body as it flung itself to the ground. Without such a distraction he didn’t know if they’d survived. Although her strategy could use some work. It was much different than the battle he’d had in the deep roads with Hawke.

Damn he missed Hawke.

As he dragged himself through the snow he couldn’t help but think he seriously preferred writing about adventures over having them. The cold, the exhaustion, the uncertainty whether they’d succeed. He could do without all that.

Thanks to Olis’ pace they reached the temple quickly. Or what was left of it. As Cassandra explained to her they’d found her here, he watched the girl take in the destruction. The frozen bodies, faces distorted in agony. He’d seen it all before, but it wasn’t any more pleasant the second time around.

Olis walked past it all without paying too much attention. The dismissive attitude of someone used to destruction, but the cheerful attitude of... Daisy? Perhaps it was a Dalish thing.

She was apparently more interested in the breach itself, staring at it in wonder. He joined her at the railing as Leliana and her troops arrived.

She didn’t seem to be too interested in what they were saying, but he could see her expression changing. Eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a grim line. It gave her a determined look.

Cassandra asked her if she was ready and she turned to the seeker, so Varric couldn’t see her face anymore. He heard her answer, though.

“Let’s do it.”

With these words, she vaulted over the railing.

* * *

Leliana frowned as her soldiers took position in the ruined temple. It had been a long time since she’d been here with the Hero. And the time in between had not been kind to the place.

The group surrounding their mysterious prisoner had made it through the mines, even rescuing the remaining scouts. She was immensely perturbed by what they’d initially reported. Demons were bad enough, but monsters as well? It truly seemed the end was near. Perhaps it was all a divine test. She found herself wishing for another vision.

In the meantime the voices sounding through the temple and replaying the events that led to the explosion gave her something else to focus on. She could clearly identify the Divine. And the rasping, male voice ordering someone else around was obviously the person responsible for this whole disaster. It was noticeably not the voice of the young girl they’d taken prisoner. Her heart clenched as she heard the divine calling out for help. Then, suddenly, the sound of a door opening, footsteps and finally a second male voice called out:

“Watch for their magic!”

It was followed by the sound of a short struggle, a pained gasp in a voice definitely belonging to the prisoner and finally the onset of the explosion. She could see an illusionary Divine knocking something towards the prisoner.

The apostate’s voice carried his explanation over to her. She grimaced. The final moments of the Divine had not been happy ones. She mentally shook herself. The Divine was with the Maker now.

She watched instead, as the prisoner reached the bottom of the rubble before all others. She was clearly athletic. Looking none the worse for having fought a monster capable of rending a person apart with its bare hands. The rest of the group hadn’t fared so well. Cassandra looked as though she’d suffered a hit, and her face had been drawn. The apostate had seemed determined and hopeless at the same time. There had also been frustration seeping into his expression. Suspicious. Varric on the other hand was more obviously fed-up with the current state of events. Still, beneath all his exasperation she had been able to see the dread he tried to bury under his blasé demeanour.

As they prepared to battle whatever might spring from the rift she observed the prisoner warily. What in the name of Andraste was she doing?

* * *

Solas stared at the girl. She was kneeling close to the ground, channelling magic via her daggers until finally, with a bright light, she stabbed one of her daggers into the ground before her. A white glowing mark appeared and hovered there, spreading a small circle of light and magic. It was a barrier or strengthening effect of some kind. Now he really wanted to ‘compare spells’ with her.

She had shown no magical inclination prior to this. And yet, the moment she had reached the ground she had started casting a spell. He could taste it on the air. She might not have used a mage staff, but once upon a time that hadn’t been as uncommon. Who was she? Why could she cast spells like that? He couldn’t wait to question her on all that and more.

“This would be the place for a boss fight. We ought to prepare ourselves.” Olis told him. He sighed, not only mentally this time. She had such strange beliefs.

She continued unhampered: “Please come and step into the sigil. I’ll recast it thrice more. Then, we’ll face whate’er monster awaits us from this rift.”

If she could improve the spell by recasting it, why not cast it stronger the first time? But directly before a presumably long and arduous battle was not the time for debates on magical efficiency.

As they stepped forward and she cast again he concentrated on the subtle rearranging of reality occurring around them. He couldn’t feel her draw energy from the fade, but he couldn’t see any blood. How was she casting magic?

He wasn’t the only one concerned. Cassandra and Varric both eyed her dubiously. Neither of them had ever seen magic cast in such a way before, he’d wager. Furthermore, no one had expected their strange leader to be a mage.

Still, as her magic spread over him he felt a sense of security and strength return to him and it was almost as though the veil wasn’t there at all.

Olis lifted her hand to the rift and pulled.

All sense of power fled as he regarded the pride demon that stepped out of the new portal to the fade. He swallowed harshly. A long battle laid ahead.

He immediately put some distance between himself and the corrupted spirit. Casting his best ice spells from the back of the party was the logical choice for a mage. Olis had already put down a rather strong barrier for them, although he could tell it was rather temporary. They wouldn’t get another opportunity to reapply it. He’d need to watch out for that. Still, his spells had little effect on the creature.

That was when he sensed a connection between the demon and the rift it came from. “You must disrupt the rift!” He shouted desperately. They weren’t even hurting the demon at all.

Olis seemed to have heard him, though. She rolled between the legs of the creature to stand before the rift. She shouted another meaningless “GO!” at them as she held out her hand to do what he’d suggested. It was up to them, mainly Cassandra, to distract the demon.

Sadly, pride demons were among the most intelligent demons and it immediately turned to stop Olis from interrupting its flow of power.

“Watch out!” Varric shouted, as Solas watched, frozen in shock. The demons swung one lighting-charged fist right at the tiny girl, who was too focused on her task to notice. It catapulted her through the air, but she managed to land on her feet. Then she settled into a battle stance, twirled her daggers and a moment later she was invisible.

Solas blinked.

The demon roared in fury and turned to Cassandra instead, who had previously been trying to divert its attention.

Unfortunately he couldn’t heal someone he couldn’t see and had no opportunity to sense for in the middle of a pitched battle, so Olis was on her own for now. A moment later the demon fell to its feet as the rift was successfully disrupted. How? Invisibility usually dispelled once the caster attempted another spell. Only a true master would be able – Not now! He couldn’t overthink things in battle – better to instead cast another ice spell. It had the additional benefit of slowing the demon down somewhat.

“Help me!” Olis shouted and he whirled to face her. To his horror she was burning alive. It took him a moment to realise that she didn’t seem to be in pain and had presumably cast another spell. He was uncertain of its purpose. How would setting _herself_ on fire help anything?!

He got his answer but a moment later as she launched herself at the demon and climbed towards its face. The fire caught quickly onto the corrupted spirit and started burning it as well. It was still among the most impractical methods of inflicting damage to an opponent that he could think of. And he was including getting drunk and vomiting on them in that number.

As the fire was clearly intentional he instead cast a more general healing spell on her.

The demon made an attempt to grab the girl, but in that moment she let go of its skin and let herself fall to the ground and roll away. Once out of reach, she dispelled the unnatural fire. So naturally, the demon used the distraction to reaffirm its bond with the rift.

A very long battle indeed.

* * *

With a last gurgled roar of fury the demon finally collapsed to the ground and Cassandra nearly stumbled with the force of her relief. She half-turned towards Olis and could see her already working to close the rift.

The green light illuminated the ruined temple and sparked oddly. As a seeker, she was trained to recognise magic, yet the magic the girl had cast earlier had been unlike any she’d encountered before. Just like the rift. But the rift was still clearly magical in nature, while the strange power the girl had used was... different.

She watched through half-lidded eyes as the rift sent out another angry green spark, and Cassandra immersed herself in the air of anticipation her comrades in arms exuded. Between the lightning of the demon and the hit from the ogre earlier she was tired to the bone and she hoped desperately that this was indeed the end.

With a final snap, the rift sealed itself – but not as neatly or completely as the smaller ones had. Distracted by that thought she only realised Olis had collapsed when she heard Varric huff out an exhausted groan upon catching her.

Cassandra watched the unconscious girl wearily. She had seen how she’d set herself on fire earlier, but could see no trace of the terrible burns she should have sustained. What manner of magic could achieve such a thing? In a way, she felt betrayed to realise the companion she’d begun to respect was a mage after all. Which was frankly ridiculous. What did it matter? And it wasn’t as though she had pretended not to be.

Her frustration wasn’t shared by the rest of their troops. Slowly but steadily the first shouts of triumph rose above the noise of moving soldiers. She cast a glance towards Solas and Varric and offered to take the girl instead of the dwarf. They seemed just as exhausted as she felt. While their march back towards haven was a victorious one, it didn’t stop her from stumbling tiredly along. Too many unfamiliar enemies. She’d much rather fight dragons again. Those at least, she knew how to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing my 'tradtion' of titling the chapters after DDDA quotes.  
> Remember when I said the next chapter would be shorter? I meant longer! Woops.


	3. A cloud of unease hangs o’er the land these days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People cope, the Arisen remains mostly unfazed and no one has answers for anything.

Leliana felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Here she was again, behind another table, in another discussion with the chancellor on what he thought they should do in this situation. Which was irrelevant. With the writ of the Divine they’d be able to form the Inquisition and act. Immediately.

All things considered, the situation was in hand. While they had not managed to seal the breach completely, it was closed for now and no more demons were pouring forth. The apostate, while untrustworthy in general, had suggested more power would be able to close the breach completely and Leliana hoped to contact the mages soon.

Regardless, the opinion of the chancellor mattered little. They would not have the person capable of closing the hole in the sky tried and executed. In this, she was reminded of the Blight again. Why was it always easier to do what was right when breaking the law? She wished the Divine were still alive. She could use her guidance now.

Why had the breach appeared? Was it all a test? It obviously wasn’t the murderer’s intention.

And what exactly had transpired before the explosion? She had questioned both Cassandra and Solas on the prisoner, at long last learning her name. They’d both described the magic as strange. Although both also assured her that it was nothing like the mark or whatever opened the breach.

Then there was the monster in the mine. Where had it come from? Were there more of it? Frustratingly, she was lacking information in that regard as well. Once again, talking to the mages might yield results. As she had been advised that Olis had encountered such a monster before, she would have to ask her as soon as possible.

She squashed the thought the girl might be responsible for the monsters; she’d have to walk a line fine enough already. While the things she’d witnessed in the temple alleviated the suspicion thrown on Olis, and – considering some people called her the Herald of Andraste already – eliminated it for others, they’d have to handle the situation carefully. They didn’t want her to be tried and executed if she was the only one able to seal the Breach, but on the other hand they knew nothing about her.

The name ‘Cassardis’ was not on any maps she had consulted, so her origin remained a mystery. Her reason for being at the conclave was unknown as well. This and the fact she seemed to know nothing about the conclave in the first place painted a strange picture. She had no head-injury that would explain the memory loss. Why didn’t she know? Where did she come from?

Then there were her possessions. The unfamiliar herbs, the strange red stones. The little flask containing an unknown liquid. More differently coloured stones; those definitely magical in nature. And a lantern of all things. It all added up... to someone who should be exploring a far-away cave. But she wasn’t dressed for that. Her clothes stood out too much for her to have been a spy and in truth she couldn’t quite grasp their purpose. She looked as though she had been about to attend a very strange masquerade. Or a ritual.

None of her equipment was enchanted. So it couldn’t be that, either. And who had been with her before the explosion? There had been another man present. Had he died as so many others had? Or had he, too, survived the explosion and was now stumbling around, similarly marked.

All of those questions could only be answered once the Herald awoke. No – the Arisen. A title she had given herself. She turned her attention back to the conversation between the chancellor and Cassandra until suddenly the doors opened to let the girl in question in.

“Hello!” She greeted them, with a smile that seemed genuine, even to Leliana’s trained eye.

Unfortunately her friendly greeting was answered by the chancellor’s demand for her arrest. Leliana prayed for patience.

The conversation that followed went as expected. Cassandra declared the Inquisition reformed and the chancellor stormed out in a huff. She wished they could have formed the Inquisition with full support of the chantry – as had been the plan previous to the explosion, but it seemed they would have to do without. No small feat, but as Cassandra had so rightly pointed out: they couldn’t wait. The time to act was now and all things considered they were in a better position than they had been in during the blight. She should be thankful, but with the Divine’s death she had trouble understanding the maker. She envied Cassandra’s faith, if only she herself could believe so strongly in the people surrounding her.

She didn’t want to suspect the chancellor or her brothers and sisters in faith. The chantry was supposed to be her refuge. And while she had accepted the politics when she became the left hand of the Divine that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted them here. Spying, lying, killing for the chantry, yes, that she had no trouble with. Within, though? Why did it have to be this way...?

Her doubts aside, things proceeded smoothly. The girl offered her assistance before they could even ask and assured them that she would do everything in her power to fix the problem. It was odd. Maybe she just wasn’t used to heroes anymore, but someone actually willing to be helpful had become so uncommon to her that she couldn’t help being suspicious.

At least there was a consolation prize. She could finally predict Olis’ actions somewhat. Which would help her in interrogating the stranger.

She smiled at the girl and invited her for tea. It was time for that mystery to be solved.

* * *

The cold winter sun illuminated the little town of Haven, turning the bright snow shiny and difficult to look at. Yet, little flakes of coal and dark smoke drifted into the scene from the fireplaces, to take up arms against the brightness of the day.

Varric sat by one such place and stared into the flames. A hole in the sky. Well, that didn’t happen every century. Around him the men of the Inquisition were hard at work to make Haven into some sort of military encampment, but his mind had begun to wander away. Lost in a contemplation of the current situation.

They called her the Herald of Andraste. The little girl, who wasn’t quite what she seemed.

He himself hadn’t decided what to believe yet. Shit like that – fixing the sky, carrying people’s beliefs, being the big damn hero – it changed people. Some cracked under the pressure, some cracked jokes. And he didn’t know what type the Herald was.

He could see her walking around right now, talking to the people of Haven. Fixing whatever problem they dumped on her. The interrogation the spymaster had subjected her to hadn’t made much of an impact, apparently.

She was slowly advancing to his position, and judging by her talking to everyone, his turn was about to come up.

“’Ello Varric!” She greeted him and crouched down next to him. She appeared even more cheerful than before.

“Hey kid, how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine! I’ll leave soon to acquire someone to take care of horses. How wondrous! Ne’er seen a horse before!” She told him excitedly.

How did she get to the conclave without seeing a single horse? She didn’t give him a chance to ask about that, though: “How’s the day find you? You seem preoccupied.”

“Just doing some navel-gazing. You sure you’re fine? It’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, Varric. I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails.”

He blinked. Hearing about sails made him think of Rivaini and his old companions again. Must be the crisis getting to him. Even _he_ wanted someone to – well, to fix everything. The sky, the demons and the god-awful ale.

“And what does that mean for you?” He asked somewhat absently.

“What use is worrying, when I could do aught instead? Let me know if you need anything.”

With these words she left him again. He frowned slightly as he watched her leave. He’d consider himself an expert on reading people and usually he trusted his instincts. Only in her case, he couldn’t make sense of what they were telling him. It was definitely not ‘Everything will be fine’, which was really what he wanted to hear.

Whether or not she’d sort this mess out, he’d do his part to help. Interesting times to live in, for sure. Rubbing his temple he searched through his satchel. Someone had to tell this tale, the way it really happened. With some minor embellishments, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This gives us an important interlude before ... the maelstorm hits the mud.
> 
> The next chapter is just Solas, which is going to answer a lot of questions that didn't get answered this time around. (It is mostly written already but grew and grew until it had to become its own chapter... leaving this one a bit shorter)
> 
> Leliana ofc had questions. Different questions than Solas, but they will mostly be asked by everyone else as well so we are skipping it for now. *skips stone* *fails miserably*
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Afterwards we'll return to Cassandra and then we'll meet some of the other characters!
> 
> Thank you everyone for voting, the monster thing is decided. To quote a pawn: "The path diverges." 
> 
> Since everyone seemed pretty worried about them not fitting in, have no fear. There were two different ideas I had for the story. And now I will use the one that happens to contain monsters. (Not just happens... But, you know, the other one didn't have them and also had reasons for that)
> 
> PS: Did anyone spot the reference?


	4. Is there aught I may assist you in?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald causes a mild panic and Cassandra stabs a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I'm putting off the Solas conversation for another chapter, yay me!

Cassandra sprinted down the worn path of Haven. Her breath came in short gasps and she desperately wished they had horses. She had no idea why the Herald had suddenly decided to leave the town, without informing any of them, but she was about to find out.

She had been closest to the gates and had stormed after her the moment she heard Olis had left Haven. What was going through that girls mind? Why would she leave like that? They weren’t even sure she had recovered from trying to close the Breach.

Luckily Olis hadn’t gone too far. She caught up to her, frowning at a map and their surroundings. As Cassandra neared the girl she put the map away and fixed her with a look.

“Hello Cassandra!” she greeted cheerily.

It took her off-guard for a moment. Then she remembered herself.

“What are you doing?!” She hissed, trying to catch her breath.

“I thought I’d do some work for the people of Haven. I need to learn the land and I might as well do something useful while I’m at it.” Olis explained.

“And you went out alone?!” Cassandra asked, full of disbelief.

Olis blinked at her. “Was I supposed to take someone along?”

Cassandra took a moment to look her over and consider her response.

She had been evasive about her age, as Leliana explained to them, but she _could_ not be older than 14. She was dressed in the same impractical and inappropriate clothes they’d found her in and seemed just as cheerful now as she had been when waking up in a cell with hostile strangers. Leliana thought it was some defence mechanism of hers against the harsh reality.

“You shouldn’t be out on your own,” she finally said.

Olis blinked again after hearing that. “Why not?” she asked, tilting her head and staring straight into her soul.

Cassandra fumbled for words. Had no one ever taken care of her?

“Where are your parents?”

“They died in a storm at sea when I was younger. They were probably eaten.” Olis answered her. She didn’t sound very upset about it, though.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cassandra said anyway.

“It happens. And it was a long time ago. Even longer now, I suppose.” But Olis was looking away as she said this, so maybe the memories did weigh on her after all. Now she felt bad for bringing it up, but she also did want to know where the girl had come from and what had forced her into her circumstances.

“You don’t have to be alone.” She said, trying to find the right words, “We will be there for you.” There, that sounded almost like one of the characters in... She blushed slightly from thinking about it and swiftly changed the topic.

“So you were going to help the townspeople?”

“Oh yes!” Olis said, previous melancholy forgotten, “there’s also some horse owner I’m supposed to talk to?”

Disregarding once again her strange manner of speech, Cassandra carefully directed Olis towards the people they needed to see.  
  


* * *

Cullen rubbed his temples and contemplated the recruits in front of him. He’d joined the Inquisition in part to assuage his lingering sense of guilt, but was currently reconsidering that decision. The idea of serving the Maker and doing good had always appealed to him and it had become increasingly obvious that the templars weren’t the right way to achieve that. A fresh start without lyrium. And now he was at the centre of the greatest catastrophe since the blight. That wasn’t how he’d imagined things to go.

But even so, perhaps the maker had put him here so he could do some good again, after all his previous failures. He just had to have faith. No matter how difficult this was.

He was showing one of the recruits the many ways his current stance left openings in his defence and furthermore proved that footwork was as important as he’d been telling him, when a messenger interrupted him. He was relieved only for a moment. Apparently the Herald had set out from Haven. On her own.

Worse, this had occurred hours ago and Cullen was left behind, thoroughly confused. While he hadn’t had much interaction with the young girl she had seemed rather dedicated to their cause. Why would she leave now?

In light of these circumstances he left his post and sought out Leliana. The spymaster was busy looking over past reports in an ongoing effort to find those responsible for the explosion and keep the chantry from coming down on their heads. She looked up when he entered her tent.

“I heard” she told him, before he could say anything, “but I think she has accepted tasks from several people and has left only to complete them.”

Cullen blinked. Leliana was notoriously paranoid and seeing her so trusting of a complete stranger was odd.

“And you are certain she hasn’t tried to desert us?” He asked, to be sure.

“Where would she go? She has appeared out of nowhere, no one knows her and no one saw her come to the conclave. Even if she tried to leave we would just catch her and it would leave her in a worse position.” She explained.

Cullen wasn’t sure he believed that to be her reason. The spymaster had been very secretive about the conversation she had with Olis yesterday and had shared very little of it. He didn’t like this at all.

“We are all in this together.” He tried, “ _We_ founded the Inquisition. What makes you choose her over us?”

Leliana frowned at him. “I haven’t chosen her. And I have summarised our conversation in my report.”

“The report that contains almost nothing?” He asked, slowly feeling his anger begin to rise.

“I find her words as unbelievable as you do.” Leliana answered, “But she didn’t appear to be lying and she wouldn’t give me anything else.”

Cullen sighed in frustration. “So now we let our only hope leave? Without any protection?”

“Cassandra is with her.” Leliana tried to reassure him.

“They could be attacked! By – by whoever caused the conclave, or maybe another one of those monsters we’ve seen no evidence of!”

The so-called ogre that Cassandra and the herald had encountered in the mine was a topic of contention between them. They had found half-eaten and smashed corpses but no remnants of the beast. According to Olis that was just something monsters did and they needn’t worry about it, but Cullen refused to accept so much on faith alone. On the word of a stranger who had appeared out of nowhere with no history or reference, who was dressed in a bizarre and very inappropriate manner – and continued to do so even as she was called the Herald of Andraste! – who didn’t seem nearly old enough to be wandering so far from anyone who might know her and who had just run off on her own to do Maker knew what.

* * *

Hours later Cassandra stood next to a small creek, washing dirt off her face and almost regretted setting out after Olis in the first place. She sighed exhaustedly. The Herald insisted upon helping every person they came across and she was _done_ chasing Druffalos, through the fields and hills. Olis hadn’t seemed to mind, to say the least, if her excited whooping had been any indication.

Still, they weren’t done yet. The sun was getting lower in the sky, but they still had to help the people master Dennet had directed them to.

They had been looking into positions to set up watchtowers on the way so the last person for today was Elaina, who apparently had some kind of problem with wolves. They had been killing wolves as they went and for once Olis had seemed oddly... irritated to fight them, even though they were no trouble for the both of them. What was her problem with wolves?

She decided to leave that for later, since she didn’t really know the girl well enough to try and decipher her moods. So they returned triumphantly to Elaina to tell her of their successfully completed task.

Only, because nothing could ever be easy, she told them there was some sort of giant lion-like monster, too, that was allegedly haunting the fields since the Breach. Cassandra allowed herself a frustrated exhale, even as her companion immediately agreed to go look for this supposed monster.

“’Tis likely a chimera.” She said, as they made their way across the plains.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked tiredly. It had been a long day of near-constant fights and drudgery besides. She hoped the woman had simply been exaggerating.

“A three-headed monster: A lion, that will roar and claw at you, a goat that can cast magic and a poisonous snake.” Olis told her, unbothered.

Then she continued: “Unless ‘tis a Gorechimera, but we ought not encounter them so soon.”

 _Of course_. That made _perfect_ sense. Cassandra had never heard of an encounter with such creatures before and while she could perhaps accept a mutated demon had ambushed them in the mine, she was a little more sceptical of a mystical three-headed beast. They were unheard of outside of legends and plays.

But, as they reached the indicated location, she could see the creature for herself. It was a grotesque mixture of lion, goat and snake, and it was huge. Olis saw it first and started sprinting towards it. The instant it spotted the two of them it made a gigantic leap towards them and it was only being too far away that saved Cassandra from being mauled. Olis rolled out of the way of the attack rather gracefully, as though she'd done it a thousand times before.

She spent a moment just staring at the thing as it turned around to face the Herald. The main body was that of a lion the size of a house, but it had a second head growing out of its shoulders – that of a goat. Lastly, its tail was a snake, twisting around and snapping after Olis. Cassandra shook herself.

Then, to her great shock, she could sense the unmistakeable aura of magic forming around the goat head as it seemed to start on a spell.

She ran towards Olis, watching her as she neatly severed the goat head from the rest of the body. The creature threw itself on the ground, roaring in agony and Cassandra almost felt bad for the thing. But as she slowed and raised her shield, Olis already had started on the snake tail and it, too, fell to the ground.

She took an almost half-hearted stab at the monster’s face before Olis spun around with her blades and attacked the downed beast, finally killing it.

She made it look so easy. As Cassandra was thinking this, Olis was already picking through the remains. The monster decayed ridiculously quickly, reminding her, once again, of dragons.

“So that was a Chimera?” She asked, trying to regain her equilibrium, and breath for that matter.

“Yes, ‘tis best to silence the goat quickly.”

“I see,” Cassandra said, not really seeing anything, “Do you have any idea where it has come from?”

“Mayhap ‘tis a test by the maker? ‘Tis related to the wyrm’s coming.” Olis tried to explain.

“I don’t understand” Cassandra huffed, “I have never seen such a beast before.”

“When the dragon comes, monsters appear. Defeat the dragon and they will vanish.” Olis shrugged, “Is our task done?”

“I suppose so.” Cassandra said reluctantly. By now, nothing remained of the great monster they had slain. Nothing except for the materials Olis had gathered. Hopefully that would convince Elaina.


	5. Magick, at its heart, is the transmutation of the user's mind into a physical force.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas uses Fade search and ends with a bruised knee, Cullen feels like sleeping for a week and the Arisen offers some inconclusive explanations.

Solas took a deep breath of the cold mountain air to steady himself. Upon returning from the temple he had once again been tasked with ensuring Olis’ health. But after that had been done, he’d entered the fade to find answers to the questions her words had raised.

After seeking out one of his oldest friends, he’d finally found a lead.

He had initially sought out some newer spirits in the area and while they didn’t have answers for him, they had been interested, so he hadn’t considered it a great loss. Afterwards he had turned to Wisdom. As one of his oldest friends and dearest advisors, he’d hoped the spirit had heard of the monster they’d met in the mine.

And they had.

The conversation they’d had, had been both illuminating and terrifying.

_“The Arisen is an ancient hero, said to appear when the world nears its end.”_

The words had stuck with him. Said by whom? Was it because of his plan? Or was it the rifts? Would the Arisen be a threat to him? Was she truly ancient?

But Wisdom had declared themselves too young to know enough about the topic to offer advice. Something the spirit had only done on very rare occasions and it had worried him greatly. In his younger years the habit of Wisdom to withhold information when they believed it incomplete or misleading had annoyed him. As he became older, he’d come to understand they did it with good reason. Incomplete knowledge could indeed mislead and cause great harm, when the wrong conclusions were drawn. It was something he’d deliberately used enough times to acknowledge the fact.

Still, Wisdom had been able to refer him to another spirit, Curiosity, who they said would hold more information regarding the matter. He had been admittedly sceptical. In concept he enjoyed the company of such spirits. Their ever-present thirst for knowledge was a joy to behold. Sadly, especially in these times, they didn’t last long. Sooner or later they’d grow curious about something too dangerous and perished. So he hadn’t expected much when Wisdom, who considered _themselves_ too young for the subject, had referred him to just such an entity.

To his surprise, Curiosity had indeed been old. Although the spirit was clearly unwell, not yet corrupted into a demon, there was an odd aura coming off its essence. It also hadn’t greeted him with the usual exuberance of spirits and had been unusually cryptic in its speech. Instead beginning their conversation with a seemingly random statement.

_“Bitterblack Isle.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“’Tis the place that holds the answer.”_

_“To what question?”_

_“All of them.”_

_“Where could I find it?”_

_“Only an Arisen can enter Bitterblack Isle.”_

_“Why? What is an Arisen?”_

_“A hero destined to save the world – or perpetuate its existence at any cost. Only those tied to the very foundation of the world may enter the cursed Island. If you wish to seek it still, confront your greatest fear_ _and continue.”_

The spirit had left him then, not much wiser than before. It had been a very frustrating conversation, but he’d at least correctly guessed that he would find the Island in the fade if he searched. Using the aura of the spirit as guidance, he had drifted further and further into the fade and a bizarre story.

_It had begun as little more than annoyances, passing conversations he only just couldn’t make out, odd images flashing across nearby surfaces. Then, after he’d descended a spiral staircase leading directly into a turbulent sea, he found himself at a gleaming shore, looking up into the ocean he’d left. It hung as a stormy cloud above his head and brought with it an unwelcome feeling of entrapment._

_Upon further inspection he’d noticed what he’d believed to be sand was actually made of tiny metal shards. In the distance he could see the odd broken hilt. A beach of broken weapons, finely ground by the unrelenting waves. As the foam gently washed up to his feet he took a hasty step back. It burned worse than any fire he’d ever been exposed to. Feeling thoroughly fed-up and quite a bit uneasy, he’d made to dispel the image. And found that he couldn’t._

_That had unnerved him more than anything else on this journey had. He had absolute mastery of the fade – losing control like this had only happened in one specific circumstance. Could another of the Evanuris be interfering with him? How though, sealed away as they were? But the monster... Ghilan’nain?_

_As he stood on the shore staring out at the burning sea in front of him the voices returned. As before he only just couldn’t make out the words, like a thought forever out of reach. This time they had a menacing edge to them and sent a cold shower down his back. The fade had obviously twisted itself for someone, but whom?_

_He wondered if he simply was too weak in his current state to properly control this area, but his instincts told him there was something else at work. He tiredly rubbed his temples, where a headache made its merry way into existence. Just what was affecting this area so? What place did it correspond to? He shouldn’t feel this exhausted and drained within the fade. This was where was supposed to be at his strongest._

_He let himself sink to his feet and tried to concentrate, but the background noise washed his own thoughts away in a torrent of doubts and half-formed answers to unasked questions. Feeling disoriented, he tried to steady himself with a hand, only to cut himself on the sharp pieces of metal the ground consisted of. It brought him back to awareness. Something was influencing him! He felt as though a sloth demon were attacking him, but weakened or not, he would not be defeated by a corrupted spirit! Hastily he rouse to his feet again and nearly fell for a second time, as a wave of dizziness hit him. He stumbled forward, barely managing to catch himself before falling into the oh-so-innocent water._

_Casting his senses wide, the only thing he felt was an almost overwhelming aura of malice._

_With the headache pounding in his head he took a few hasty steps back, shadows flitting in and out of his field of vision. Ghostly hands brushed against his ankles and with each touch a rush of desperation poured into him. Grief and regret so deep it made him remember his utter failure brought him to his knees again. By now, blood was freely pouring from his cut hands and knees. In his distorted perception the blood coloured the metal a rusty red. Darkness crept into his vision._

_Perhaps it had been this way since he’d arrived. He should just lie down. It was dark and probably night and he did enjoy sleeping and wandering through the fade, no? He could just rest here for a while._

“SOLAS!”

His eyes snapped open to the sound of Cassandra storming into his hut. The blinding light of midday shone through his windows, but the cool breeze Cassandra brought with her froze him to the core. He was bathed in sweat and his hands and knees hurt. Hastily, he tried to compose himself before Cassandra could see him in such a state. When she drew near and saw him still in bed she frowned. But then the frown turned into concern and she asked:

“Are you well?”

The experience had left him shaken and drained. Cassandra had only sought him out so he could check on the Herald’s health again, but she might have saved his life. **That** was immensely troubling. The fade should never have been able to hurt him. At all. It was a friend to him. Whatever this place had been, there was a thoroughly malevolent influence there. Even worse, the cuts he’d sustained were slow to heal. He’d ask Olis about it. It was possible she had heard of it and from their brief interaction when she’d been awake she hadn’t seemed opposed to explaining herself. Maybe there was more to her than he’d suspected.

* * *

By the time the sun started to set for the evening, Cullen found himself anxiously awaiting the return of both Cassandra and the Herald. Leliana had agreed to send out scouts if they hadn’t returned by nightfall and he was impatient to do anything other than wait.

He stood, arms crossed, in front of his desk. He was supposed to go over their logistics, but he’d given up on that once he’d read the same sentence for the fifth time without grasping its meaning.

The Herald shouldn’t be allowed to leave on her own. She was so young. And he hadn’t yet seen her fight, busy as he had been with distracting the demons. While everyone assured him she could handle herself, he couldn’t quite believe it.

The only way a person of that age could win a fight would be with the aid of a demon and he didn’t want to contemplate the possibility.

While she appeared to have some magical ability, she fought with a bow and daggers instead. It was all very suspicious. Still, Cassandra and Leliana – and most of the troops, for that matter – had seen something at the temple that had convinced them she was not to blame for the explosion.

He rubbed his hand across his face. Varric had tried to invite him to a game of chess earlier, but he felt too riled up to concentrate and had declined. With everything that had happened, he found it hard to figure out what to do next.

It would help, if their only hope was safe.

“Commander!” A scout broke through the opening, “The Herald has returned!”

Relief flooded him, so visceral it was almost painful.

“She wants some watchtowers set up for the horsemaster.” The soldier added.

That, he could easily deal with.

* * *

Solas rubbed his head, watching the sunset. For the first time in a long while he didn’t want to return to sleep. He had heard that the Herald had left sometime in the morning, followed by Cassandra, and she had yet to return. It was worrying. Although he wasn’t sure, what, precisely, he was worried most about.

The fact she left without backup? That she hadn’t sought him out? That they hadn’t returned yet?

He had so many questions and for once the fade offered no answers. Arisen, Arisen. He had heard that word before, somewhere. It held unpleasant memories for him, but perhaps that was just an overlay from his experiences in the fade?

Either way, he would need to speak to the Herald. Whatever conversation she had with the spymaster hadn’t been shared with the local apostate healer, so he’d have to ask her directly. That shouldn’t prove too difficult, unless Leliana had told her to keep silent.

News that the Herald came back safely were impossible to miss; the people of Haven cheered loudly upon her successful return. He wasn’t certain what mood she’d be in, so he waited for her to approach him. He’d heard of her morning, where she had made a point to at least greet everyone so he was certain his turn would come.

When she finally made her way over to his spot, his fingers felt cold and the sun had almost sunk completely.

“Hello there!”

He attempted a smile for her. “Greetings.”

“How’s the day find you?” She asked. An odd way to phrase it, but he could guess her meaning.

“I am well. I was hoping to speak to you.”

“Yes?”

And then she looked at him. He felt a shiver run down his spine and it felt as though the whole world was watching their interaction. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I have been investigating the matter of the monster in the mine.” He began.

“The ogre?”

“Indeed. Have you heard of a place called Bitterblack Isle?”

“Aye. ‘Tis a place to lure Arisen. You need not worry.” She told him.

“Lure Arisen? What would happen to... one who is not ‘Arisen’?”

“They would not find it.” She said simply.

She didn’t appear to be lying, and yet... What had he found, then?

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever visited it, then?”

“No I have. ‘Tis how I know of its nature. “

“But you escaped?”

“Mh. Mayhap. I visited often in search of the legendary cursed items found only there. I faced greater challenges again and again, but in time I found less reason to leave. I know not why and how I left. I certainly ne’er considered myself trapped. Yet, I did not return to where I came from either.”

That sounded much more like the trap he encountered. A place that would make one disinclined to leave. A powerful sloth demon? Powerful enough to overpower him, though...

“I see. Would you be willing to tell me more about the Arisen?” He switched the topic. Whatever answer he’d hoped to gain, the Herald didn’t know either.

“What do you want to know?”

“What does that title mean to you?”

“That I chose to try and save the world.” She answered promptly.

“It’s a title you chose yourself?” He had got the impression it held more weight than that.

“No – ‘tis a title granted to those marked by the dragon. But you do not become so marked easily.”

None of these answers brought him closer to understanding the peculiar situation they were in. It didn’t connect to Bitterblack Isle and he was starting to wonder if they meant the same thing when speaking of dragons. How could the appearance of Olis tie into the destruction of the world? And did it have anything to do with his plans?

“How are you going to save the world?” He asked her at length.

“First I’ll try my best to close the hole in the sky. Then I’ll see what comes up. I doubt I’ll meet the dragon so soon, but if he comes, I will defeat him.”

She sounded confident in her chances, but what he didn’t understand was this:

“You keep mentioning a dragon. I assume it’s not the regular kind?”

“No ‘tis the wyrm come to destroy the world.” She explained.

“I see.” He said, seeing, in truth, very little.

“Is there aught I could assist you with?” She asked, smiling. It didn’t make him feel less watched, but it did take some of the invisible tension. He allowed himself to relax slightly.

“I was curious about the magic you used in the temple.”

“What of it?”

“I have not seen its like before.” Perhaps some of June’s inventions had used magic without drawing from the Fade and certainly there was Lyrium. But she had seemed to use neither.

“What did you use as the source of your energy?” He asked.

She tilted her head at him. “Myself. ‘Tis not the way you do it?”

He stared at her. Did she mean... Blood Magic?

“Perhaps it’s best to continue this conversation in private” he suggested, leading her into his hut.

She followed him readily.

“Did you use your blood to power the spell?” He asked her carefully.

“Of course not. I used magic.” She answered immediately.

He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. He had a feeling they weren’t talking about the same thing.

“Magic needs a source of power.” He explained, “What did you use for that?”

“Don’t you mean a medium?” She returned, sounding as confused as he felt.

“Alright. When drawing power for your spells, where do you take that from?”

She studied him for a few moments, before offering: “I am taking the power from myself. I’m shaping reality with my mind. The power... I suppose it comes from my mind, but what is taxed is the body. You cast magic differently, then?”

He thought it over. It was as though... She cast magic as though the veil wasn’t there. As though the Fade were still infused in reality, as though she could still easily give her mind’s will shape. It was as though the Veil didn’t exist for her. As though the mind and the body had never been separated for her the way they had been for everyone else, even him. It would explain her odd presence in the Fade as well.

_But how?_

“I understand.” She didn’t seem to see anything special in it. It explained a great deal about her. Maybe her status as Arisen granted her the ability to cast magic in this manner?

“So, do you use blood to cast your magic?” She asked him unexpectedly.

“No!” He denied immediately. He would never voluntarily cut himself off from the Fade like this. The veil was quite enough.

“I draw my power from the Fade,” he explained.

“You’ve mentioned that before,” she prompted.

“Most mages do,” he said, “but the Fade is more than that.”

“Yes?”

“It also holds a wealth of knowledge – for those willing to look for it.”

“Are you using that often?” she asked him.

“As often as I can,” he told her.

She nodded at him.

“As a mage, you should have a connection to the fade as well; I would like to test this, if you’re willing?”

“As you will.”

She looked to him expectantly and Solas concentrated. He closed his eyes and carefully reached out for the fade with his mind, feeling himself around the obstacle of the veil. Olis shone brightly before him, as though... simultaneously completely immersed in the fade and yet not even a part of it. He drew away and opened his eyes.

Olis looked alarmed and reached out for him.

“Are you hurt?”

He blinked at her in confusion, until he noticed the wetness on his cheeks. He sat down, trembling slightly. How could the veil... pass by her in this manner? She was excluded from the veil, but not from the fade. How was this possible?

“I’m here,” Olis told him, stepping closer to him.

“I am not hurt,” he assured her weakly, “merely... surprised.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“Perhaps. We could finish our conversation another time. You’ve given me much to think about.”

And much to ask Wisdom. Perhaps he would even seek out the old spirit of curiosity again. How could she alone remain unaffected by the veil – when it touched everyone and everything, even him?

Olis left him without objections and he felt absurdly grateful for that. He didn’t have the fortitude for more revelations.


	6. Wolves hunt in packs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local Wildlife Baffles Experts!

Varric was somewhat taken aback when his breakfast was interrupted by the Seeker and the Herald. Cassandra marched towards him with an impressive scowl that he chose to attribute to the current situation rather than himself.

She stopped in front of him with a loud and annoyed sigh.

“Commander Cullen thought I ought to take along more people for the visit to Val Royeaux and I hope you want to come,” Olis explained.

“The city, huh? Well, I’m not going to turn that down.”

“Great,” Cassandra said, obviously meaning the opposite.

“Great!” Olis cheered, far more enthusiastically, “Let’s find Solas.”

“The apostate?” Cassandra asked, surprised.

“Yes. ‘Tis good to have a healer in case one of you gets hurt.”

Varric approved of that reasoning. It seemed the Herald at least didn’t mind Solas’ status.

As they left him he put away the tasteless gruel and packed his bags for a trip to the city. So long as she didn’t want him to come traipsing around the countryside he was quite glad to leave the place.

While the air of desperation had abated, now that the Herald was out and about, the Breach still shone in angry green down on them as a constant reminder that the crisis was far from over. He needed some time away from these hopeful faithful. After everything that had happened he couldn’t quite muster the same amount of belief.

Travelling with the Herald might help ease his worries. She had taken the events remarkably in stride. So far.

For a trip to the city he decided to pack money, perhaps he’d have some time to indulge himself and buy something more luxurious than the piss they served in Haven.

Hopefully Cassandra could take care of the chantry matters there; he wasn’t sure what they’d think of Olis. Especially her choice of fashion.

It would almost be better if she’d been dressed in rags, she might be able to play off the escaped slave angle, a similarity to Andraste. But no, she chose to look ridiculous. Maybe she hadn’t realised it?

Josephine was certainly tearing her hair out over the Herald’s behaviour. Varric could understand her frustration, but he kept his thoughts on the matter quiet. The hero of this story was someone with an unfailing sense of kindness. He hadn’t missed how she’d spoken to each and every person and listened to their troubles, going out of her way to solve whatever problems they had. The Herald of Andraste... Perhaps not what they expected, but who could truly know the Maker’s will?

If only there were some definite sign that could help him understand what was going on.

* * *

Solas stared at Regret. Wisdom had advised him to search his own memories and he had found a spirit to help him with that. While the journey had proven nourishing for his companion, he couldn’t say it had been as successful for him. Once again Wisdom knew something, but wasn’t sharing their ideas, because they might lead him astray.

Solas wished he had at least a hint of what he was looking for here. He was looking at the creation of the veil and had been drawing together pieces of its invention.

But there was nothing that could explain why this one person was excluded from the veil. It just stopped existing for her. Yet, she seemed to suffer no consequences from it, either. He gritted his teeth. Perhaps this was the wrong memory.

Wisdom thought he could find what he was looking for if he searched, but they hadn’t given him a starting point. Perhaps whatever he was looking for, what flitted through the edges of his consciousness-

A knock startled him out of the fade. His eyes snapped open and he rose to a sitting position. Pale morning light shone through his window, clouds blocking any direct sunlight.

“Solas?” Cassandra asked, this time more hesitant in opening his door.

He swiftly rose to his feet. He’d woken and dressed hours ago, but had taken to resting and searching the fade before the day started in earnest. At least healing the villagers garnered some good-will for the apostate amongst them.

“Seeker Cassandra,” he said respectfully as he opened the door.

She was frowning at him, but Olis, who was next to her smiled brightly.

“We will go to the city and we were hoping you’d be willing to come along.” Olis’ smile didn’t dim in the slightest as she stared at him.

Once again he had the uncomfortable feeling of something other watching him. He forced a smile.

“Of course,” he agreed and turned to gather his pack.

Cassandra raised her eyebrows at him, but she shouldn’t be surprised that the apostate healer was ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

“Varric will accompany us as well,” Cassandra informed him as they headed toward the tavern.

Solas suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t reached an accord with the dwarf in the short time they’d been fighting together. But for all that Varric claimed he wanted to solve the crisis, he was remarkably passive.

* * *

Cassandra led the way to the tavern, Olis and Solas quietly following behind her. She was a bit surprised with how quiet the girl had been during their trips. It wasn’t a pensive silence, though. She was too focused for that.

On her part, she was not pleased to take both the apostate and the cheeky dwarf along, but marching into the chantry stronghold with just her as protection seemed an even worse idea. No matter how adept Olis was at fighting – they would just be two people and they _needed_ her. If it came to a fight, Cassandra would lay down her life to help the girl escape and she hoped Solas and Varric would at least provide another buffer, if not do the same.

The dwarf had all packed up by the time they returned and with Solas already packed and ready to go – presumably he worried for his safety and Cassandra would try to reassure him en route – there were no more reasons to delay.

Even if she really wished they could put the trip to the capital off for a little longer.

But they couldn’t even wait for horses – since there were some injuries Master Dennet had to tend to first. Cassandra let out another frustrated sigh as they walked the road to Val Royeaux.

Varric and Solas had started a discussion on dwarves, who Solas apparently was interested in, but Olis followed in dead silence, occasionally breaking away to collect herbs.

She searched her mind for a topic, but she always came back to the events of the conclave and questions about Olis’ heritage.

“You said your parents died at sea,” she eventually settled on.

Olis stopped in her tracks and stared at her. Cassandra felt uncomfortable for bringing up what might be unpleasant memories. Varric and Solas had stopped as well to watch the exchange.

“They did,” Olis confirmed.

“Why were they at sea to begin with?”

“’Twas afore the dragon made the sea unsafe. They went fishing, as they did most days.”

Cassandra frowned at her.

“So your parents were fishers?”

“Of Cassardis.”

“Why did you choose a different path?” It was clear to her that Olis had more than a little training in combat.

“I wanted to protect my people,” Olis said very earnestly.

“A noble goal,” Solas declared, inserting himself into the conversation. Olis turned her gaze on him and Cassandra felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

“Mayhap. Is it not selfish to wish to protect the things I care about?”

Cassandra stared at her. The worst thing was she couldn’t think of a good answer. “It is not.”

“Meh, it’s as good a reason as any. Who cares about noble?” Varric butted in, apparently feeling left out.

Cassandra’s eye twitched.

“We should move on.” With that declaration she strode onward, her companions falling into step beside her.

* * *

The road to Val Royeaux dragged on, dusty, windy and cold. Varric couldn’t wait to be out of the mountains. The capital of Orlais would welcome them like a pack of flea-ridden nugs, but at least it would be warmer.

Travelling to Orlais with the Seeker, Chuckles and the Herald was quite different from journeying with Hawke, but he appreciated the lack of darkspawn and muggers. At least Olis was similarly flighty.

She was a lot quieter, though. He had expected her to be more like Daisy, bubbly and chatty, but she marched next to them in silence, unless directly addressed. And whenever that happened she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at whoever had spoken to her. While she always answered the questions in a chipper manner, it was unnerving enough that Varric had stopped trying to draw her into a conversation.

Instead he engaged with Solas, who reminded him, unsurprisingly, of Anders, with his firm belief that he knew what was best. He wasn’t alone with that, everyone always did, but who could tell?

Perhaps he shouldn’t compare the companions of old to his new ones, but here there was a shady apostate mage healer with a hidden agenda that wouldn’t be revealed until the end.

Hopefully the end would come with less explosions and death this time. At least he was certain Solas had no romantic inclinations towards Olis, seeing as how everyone treated her like a child. But she wasn’t. That did bring up the question of her age and experience again.

“So, where did you learn to fight like that?” he asked, after they’d put down another pack of wolves.

It was odd that they’d get attacked by wolves so frequently and he could tell it was beginning to unnerve the others as well. It seemed that even the Herald herself was no fan.

As she had the previous times, Olis stopped and turned to him, piercing him with her gaze.

“I learned in many places. My original education came from shooting the fish-stealing sea gulls at home. But my greatest improvements came from actually fighting and some basic instruction by travellers.”

“Random travellers taught you how to fight?” Varric was admittedly a little sceptical.

“The basics of their profession. Of course Barroch was willing to help as well.”

“Who is that?” Cassandra asked.

That sounded like it might lead somewhere productive.

“Another Arisen. I don’t know what he’s doing on Bitterblack Isle, but he hasn’t left and we occasionally see each other.”

“Bitterblack Isle?” Cassandra sounded curious.

Varric watched Solas’ raised eyebrows as she said the name. Did it mean something to him?

“’Tis a world between worlds. Only Arisen can go there, so you needn’t worry about it.” Olis paused for a moment, “I won’t soon return there either.”

“How would you go back to a place between worlds?” Varric asked.

He was never sure if the Herald meant what she said – it certainly seemed so, but on the other hand – it was too fantastical to be true, wasn’t it?

“Olra would ferry me, I am sure.”

“And who is Olra?” Cassandra wondered.

“A part of Bitterblack Isle. I have not seen her here yet.”

“Then what makes you think she would ferry you there?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“How about the fact she isn’t here?”

“Not yet! But even so – I could still make my way there. Though as I do not carry a portcrystal with me, I fear that if I leave I won’t be able to return to you. And you need my help.”

“That’s considerate. What’s a portcrystal do?” Varric had some ideas already.

“It allows me to return to the location the stone has been placed.”

“Return?” Solas queried, cutting into the conversation again.

“Vanish from one place and return to the portcrystal.”

“I have never heard of such magic before,” Cassandra said.

“Now you have!” Olis said cheerfully.

There was a lull in conversation then. Olis seemed to take it as an indicator of the discussion being over, because she set off again.

Varric followed her, deep in thought. Magic that could instantly allow a person to go somewhere they’d previously been. It would provide a lot of benefits – if it was safe to use.

* * *

Cassandra walked past Olis as the girl picked another flower and tried to process the disturbing topic they’d discussed. Such magic... if it fell into the wrong hands.... Unthinkable.

And Olis claimed to possess it even now. A feeling of helplessness spread through her. Leliana had been wrong – if Olis didn’t want to help them, she could instantly return home. And there was nothing they could do to prevent it.

So what recourse did they have but hope for the best? Only now the fate of the world lay in the hands of a child. Perhaps even more so than before. Cassandra felt rather lost.

The minimal amount of control she had over the situation – by aiding the Herald and ensuring her survival – had vanished. It might have been an illusion from the start, she thought bitterly. But it explained almost everything.

Why Olis had not appeared worried about her imprisonment. Why even when it had seemed she had no other option, she willingly and gladly gave her help. Because she did. She could leave at any time, abandoning them to the problem of the Breach.

She felt hysterical. If Olis could truly disappear like that, then it would be like trying to catch water with a sieve. It would be impossible to hold her. What if she tired of their quest?

She wasn’t the only one contemplating such heavy thoughts.

“You said you weren’t going to Bitterblack Isle soon,” Solas began, causing the Herald to stop walking. Again. Cassandra’s eye twitched.

“But what of Cassardis? Are you going to return there?”

A valid question. If this was her home town and she wanted to protect it, certainly she would want to go back. Cassandra hadn’t wanted to give her the idea, but now that the question had been asked, she was curious about the answer.

“I would like to. But so long as I do not have a portcrystal I will not risk leaving you alone in your time of need.”

“What of your people?” Solas inquired, “Are they not in need of your aid as well?”

“No, not like you are. For your problems I have the green magic and it seems no one else does, but for Gransys’ – anyone could rise to become Arisen and defeat the threat.”

“What threat is Gransys facing?” She presumed it was the name of her home country.

“The dragon, of course.”

Of course.

“And the Mark is what makes the difference?” Solas asked, sounding thoughtful.

“Yes, whate’er enemy we’re facing, it requires this magic to defeat, no doubt. But the dragon in Gransys requires nought but an iron will,” Olis confirmed.

“But why help us?” Cassandra asked. She needed to hear something that would help her sleep at night.

“Why not?” The Herald turned to look at her. She sounded honestly curious.

Cassandra was at a loss for words.

Varric had no such trouble. “There aren’t many people going out of their way to help complete strangers.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you think we will be able to change that, if only a little?”

Cassandra watched her carefully, she seemed utterly sincere.

“So it is not uncommon in Gransys?”

“Not at all. ‘Tis more common of those you helped, but we aim to take care of others, more often than not. If everyone extends their hand, we might have enough hands for everyone, no?”

Cassandra nodded hesitantly. As they set off again she wondered at this strange place the Herald was from.

* * *

Solas furrowed his brows and stepped over the carcasses of the latest group of wolves to attack them. This was extremely unusual behaviour for the animals. Their group was well-armed and noisy, which should have kept all but the hungriest predators away.

“What’s wrong with the wolves?” Cassandra muttered, also concerned.

“I get that wild animals are part of nature and all, but that’s oddly suicidal,” Varric commented.

“Maybe they are fleeing demons.” He couldn’t find another reason why they would act this way.

Olis sighed, the most aggrieved he’d seen her so far.

“Do demons make the wildlife more aggressive?” Cassandra asked, “We were attacked earlier as well.”

Solas pondered that. It was not impossible, that the escaping essence of the fade would affect them. Still, for that to be reasonable...

“There are too many of them,” he told them, “there can’t be this many wolves here. They would not be able to find enough prey.”

“True.” Cassandra peered down the road.

There didn’t appear to be more of them, though.

Solas wondered briefly if there wasn’t an enemy of his behind these attacks. Wolves, after all, were associated with him. It almost felt as if someone was mocking him. If so, then this would be Ghilan’nain’s doing.

He had wondered about her involvement earlier. It would explain the aggressive wildlife, the monster in the mine... but not Wisdom’s words. And how would she have got free? She was trapped behind the mirror, like everyone else. If she were free, so would the others be. And they would be far more obvious in their attacks.

Elgar’nan especially would have challenged him personally, if he truly had been freed. Was there perhaps an exploit? Could Ghilan’nain reach through the mirror to affect the world, due to the tears in the veil? He couldn’t truly dismiss that thought, since verifying it would prove difficult, but it seemed just plausible enough to be true.

Worrisome.

The mystery of the attacks weighed on him for the rest of the journey.

**Author's Note:**

> So, some things to consider:  
> The Arisen will be able to use all skills, not just 'forced' into a class. Same goes for equipment. It makes sense in game, not so much outside of it. The skull splitter thing will be toned down. No sixty foot drops. 
> 
> For balancing purposes... She can't use any of the staves that they have, because they aren't tuned to the way she knows. They aren't mage/sorcerer specific like she has trained with and the ability to use magic is an inherent thing in Thedas and so their staves are constructed differently. No magical bows either. It just doesn't make sense for them to exist in the first place. 
> 
> Meanwhile, she can still use the magical archer skills for daggers and so on. Her skills are bound to the weapons she carries, so no skull splitter with a sword etc.
> 
> I want to incorporate as many things from Dragon's Dogma as I can reasonably fit into Thedas.
> 
> Also she is of course not actually a child and has in fact gone through many iterations. I'm not going to write anything from her perspective, so there's that. And I might use an even shorter scene-type style in the chapters to come.
> 
> How would you feel about including monsters from Dragon's Dogma?


End file.
